


The Token of Truth: The WW2 Reconciliation

by RORYhomie



Series: The Token of Truth [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: But also, Donald Duck and Scrooge McDuck Reconcile, Hurt Donald Duck, So yeah, Still, Time Travel, You're Welcome, also, also this is the last part of the token of truth series, and all ended well, and he met Scrooge, and what if I'd made it really sad tho, but this is Staliongrad so, everybody was very happy afterwards, just a time portal, kinda hurt Scrooge McDuck, lot of WW2 inacuracies, no british or american soldiers actually fought during the battle of Stalingrad, see I made it an animal pun, so - what is that happened in the DT17 universe, the year fits tho, there is this old cartoon about Donald being recruited by the german army during ww2 right?, this part is basically the whole reason I wrote this whole series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RORYhomie/pseuds/RORYhomie
Summary: Scrooge finally finds out how and more importantly when he'd almost shot Donald.It's not that he doesn't remember it - but sometimes time is complicated.(man I suck at descriptions - just read it pls I really worked hard on it)
Series: The Token of Truth [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625344
Comments: 20
Kudos: 166





	The Token of Truth: The WW2 Reconciliation

He took his time walking over to Donald’s boat, his feet and heart heavy, his breaths deep. It must have been a lie, he had never put Donald in danger…well, ok, except for that one time, and that one other-and…but he never wanted to shoot him, that he was sure of.

Finally, he stood in front of the door, the boat in his pool swaying slightly in the wind. He looked up and saw dark clouds gathering over the manor – a storm was coming. Looking away, he realized he could see inside the boat’s kitchen. His nephew was sitting there, next to two boxes worth of his stuff, clutching a cup in his hands and staring into nothing. It was now or never. Scrooge knocked. Donald opened with a concerned expression.

“Is something wrong?” he asked paying a quick glance to Scrooge’s hands, which were nervously fiddling with his top hat.

“May I come in?” he asked in return.

Donald nodded and gestured for him to come in. Scrooge looked around and noticed that the cup Donald had been holding was empty. Donald saw his gaze and laughed awkwardly.

“I was going to make some tea but got stuck. Would you like some?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled another cup from the cupboard and put the kettle on.

“Sit down,” Donald gestured to his uncle, “so, what do you want? Are you ok?”

“Aye, I am alright lad, I just wanted to ask,” Scrooge swallowed, “I wanted to ask about you. You’ve just had quite the day yesterday.”

“You could say that, I guess,” smiled Donald with a tired expression.

“So, you’re alright?”

“Yeah, definitely, I’ve had worse,” waved Donald his hand and let out a short dry laugh.

Scrooge noticed the bags under Donald’s eyes and wondered, if he had slept at all. And how much does he sleep in general, with all the adventures and jobs and-

“If that’s all you came for…” Donald stopped his train of thought.

“Well,” Scrooge stopped himself for a moment, wondering if he should say it, but he had to know, “I have just one more question, lad.”

“And that is?”

“When have I ever almost shot you?” Scrooge hurriedly said, ripping it off like a band-aid.

Donald looked surprised at this question. From his face Scrooge recognized that he was about to wave it off too but after the two locked eyes, Donald just signed and nodded.

“I’ll go get you the tea, you…you might need it. This will take a while,” he admitted and stood up to get the drinks.

“I don’t have any nutmeg, but I do have Earl Grey,” he smiled a bit, handing Scrooge his cup.

Then he sat down and, clasping the now full cup, began to talk.

“It was back when I was in the navy, I could have been about twenty one, twenty two…I’d just left university, because I’d realized I can’t afford it anymore and army was a good way to pay my student loans…but I guess that’s not important,” he stopped himself and took a sip of the tea.

It was however still too hot, and he had to breath with his mouth for a few moments to cool down his burned tongue.

“Where was I? Oh yeah, the navy… I just had a shore leave on the coast of Germany and I went for a little walk, I thought I would explore a bit, but with my luck, I got lost and it was starting to get dark, when I suddenly saw this bright blue light.

I went to it and it was, ehm, like a portal? I naturally tried to run away but it had sucked me in and on the other side was – the same place where I’d started but it was day. I heard voices and when I got to them, I saw men wearing old uniforms, reading a newspaper. With a date on it, 1943. I tried to run away but slipped on something and fell right in front of their feet. I tried to explain my situation, but they obviously didn’t understand a word and neither did I. So, they put me inside a uniform and shipped me away. During the transport I’d picked up some basics of the language and realized that we were headed to Staliongrad. When we got there I, I…”

By this point he’d raised his voice and was getting harder to understand.

But Scrooge was listening intently, the tea untouched on the table. Donald took a deep breath and started to speak again. More calmly this time.

“I didn’t want to take any part in that. I didn’t want to fight on the German side of course but knowing the men I got there with I couldn’t fight them either. Many of them were so young, younger than me. And I think most of them couldn’t quite grasp what was really happening. So, my genius decision was just to hide in some of the bombed houses while looking for the portal. I knew it would come back, it had to.”

His voice sounded broken for a short moment, before he had gathered himself again and afterwards, he didn’t waver a bit.

“When I heard shouting, I hid, when I thought the coast was clear I went out to explore, once or twice finding something to eat. The winter was fast approaching, and I was getting tired and clumsier. Every day, the shooting got closer and…I was losing hope. One day, I was out when suddenly, I heard voices very close to me. Somebody had noticed me and started firing, shooting me in the leg. I ran to the nearest house and wanted to hide, but sadly, the thing I decided to lean on for support was a grand piano. I smashed some of the keys and jumped behind it, just as a soldier walked in. A Scottish volunteer, in full kilt.”

Scrooge's heart sank and he felt as if his feet were stuck in a block of ice. He started to get an idea where the story was headed.

“He found me quickly and aimed his weapon. I tried to talk to him, tell him I’m on his side, tell him I’m an American but he couldn’t understand a word I’d said. Told me he’d never learned that awful language and doesn’t plan on it in the future either. And that whatever I have to say, wouldn’t change his mind anyways. That he has too smart for my mind tricks. That he was actually smarter than the smarties. I tried to get the weapon from him, we struggled for a while, but he’d noticed my bloodied leg and kicked me, sending me to my knees. So, there I was, kneeling on the floor right in front of him and he’s aiming at me and…” Donald paused, took a sip and continued quietly.

“I just put my head on his gun barrel and closed my eyes. By that point I had lost most hope and if I was going to die,” Donald finally met Scrooge’s gaze, “I thought getting killed by someone I knew, by someone who wouldn’t make me suffer, was a good way to go.”

Scrooge wasn’t sure when he’d started crying and didn’t realize he’d jumped over the table to hug Donald either. Of course, he remembered the time he went to Staliongrad and the image of this random German soldier giving up and putting his forehead against his gun, had stayed with him.

He couldn’t do it, but, as he now fearfully realized, he’d almost done it.

He was very close.

He’d almost killed his nephew.

He’d almost shot him in the head.

He felt Donald’s hand pat him patiently on the back, like he’d seen him do with the kids. That however only make him cry more. It had felt like an eternity, he, weeping next to Donald, who carefully held him, waiting for it to be over. When Scrooge stopped crying for a moment, he tried to cheer him up.

“But, he didn’t. When I’d opened my eyes, he was gone. Then suddenly, the time portal opened right underneath me and I fell through it. Falling back where and when I’d been before I got into in. Only the uniform and the wound reminding me, it had really happened. So, I went back onboard, making myself a promise, I would learn the language, since it would be something that would have helped me. And now I speak German! So, it all ended up alright! You don’t have to worry.”

Scrooge just sniffled: “I couldn’t have known you; you weren’t even born back then.”

“I know, I know.”

“You have to hate me.”

Donald just looked him in the eyes and said resolutely: “Listen to me, I’d forgiven you ages ago. In fact, I had never held that against you. Of course, you couldn’t have known me, and you couldn’t have understood me. You weren’t used to my speech impediment yet! It’s ok Uncle Scrooge. It’s ok. So, stop sobbing.”

“It isn’t me lad,” realized Scrooge.

Donald got up and looked out of the window.

“Della? What are you doing here?”

From underneath the window came an answer: “I saw Scrooge walking to your boat and I wanted to make sure he isn’t actually mad about not getting the token, so I listened and…is it true?”

Scrooge saw Donald nod. Suddenly the door got almost kicked out of its hinges and Della tackled Donald into a bear hug.

“Oh Donnie, why did you never tell me…” she managed in between the sobs.

Instead of an answer, he just hugged her back and just like with Scrooge, he patted her back, letting her cry onto his shoulder. As Scrooge watched them, he realized that Donald was every bit a dad, even now, even to his uncle and sister. A better parent than he’d ever been. When Della calmed down, he let go of her and handed her a box.

“Help me bring this into the manor?” he asked, as if nothing had happened.

She just nodded, however still with a little sniffle.

“Oh and…” Donald looked at both of them and scratched the back his neck awkwardly, “don’t tell the kids, please.”

Both nodded in agreement. The kids were too young for this. Scrooge just picked up the second box of Donald’s stuff and joined his niece and nephew on their way back to the house. Just as they stepped in, the kids were waiting for them.

“Della, uncle Scrooge, are you ok?” asked Webby.

“Yeah, of course,” answered Della with a smile, “we’re just glad that Donald is alright.”

Webby and the boys nodded.

“So, you’ve already finished your homework?” asked Donald.

The kids nodded again.

“All of it?” Donald raised his eyebrow.

“Well, how do you define all?” asked Louie back.

Donald just smiled and ruffled his head.

“How about we watch some comedy, what you ya say? To help your mum and uncle cheer up a little?” he suggested.

“Can I choose?” fired Dewey at Della and Scrooge.

“I don’t see why not,” smiled Scrooge as he watched the little boy sprint to the living room followed by Webby, Huey, Louie and Donald and Della.

He knew he was going to have a few rough nights now, but with all of the kids under the same roof again, he would be able to check on all of them anytime. And that things were going to be ok.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Donald was sitting in the living room with everyone, when he noticed that Scrooge finally came in. His eyes were still a bit puffy and Donald felt his heart sink a bit, knowing it was his fault. But as Scrooge was sitting down on the couch next to him, he smiled at him and told him he was glad he decided to share this with him and that he is happy he trusts him enough. On his other side, Della nodded. He had to admit it felt good, to acknowledge his past, his trauma and his pain and to share it with his loved ones. Maybe one day, he will share even the one big secret, the one he couldn’t tell the shopkeeper.

One day.

**Author's Note:**

> no more translations - there is no German here!
> 
> Again - the one biiiig secret is that he used to be Paperinik, the Duck Avenger (but it's too secret so he doesn't even tell the reader - whaaa?)
> 
> If you've read the whole series ("series" is so pretentious - it's just three stories; which were meant to be one story, but I felt it would be too long so I split it up) - thank you! hope I made you shed one beautiful movie tear and that you enjoy my writing!
> 
> this is literally the longest thing I've ever written and - it's a sad Ducktales story, about Donald Duck (what has my life come to?)
> 
> (also I wrote this during finals season - to keep me sane, because German Lexicology is the hardest exam this semester and I had to do it twice and had a total breakdown so...yeah)


End file.
